


Not The Only One

by wanderingghost



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabbles, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 23:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3187517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingghost/pseuds/wanderingghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Midnight fondling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not The Only One

* * *

He was not the only one with nightmares.

Maybe she thought he would never notice. Some nights he would wake to find her holding on to him for dear life, calling his name with fevered breath. She would only calm once he turned around and wrapped his arms around her. Some mornings he would wake to find her staring at her hand. It stopped glowing when the breach was sealed. But sometimes he wondered.

“Does it still hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” she smiled and kissed his worry away.

Some days he found her on the battlements, staring into nothing. She could stay up there for hours on end, her thoughts her only companions. He was afraid to disturb her so he waited. She would always come back to him at the end of the day. Her hands were rough and cold as they touched his skin, but her lips were soft and warm. She smelled of metal and frost, like the taste of lyrium burning on his tongue. She whispered his name like a prayer but hers was the only one he worshipped now. The table has seen better days, although he was the only one that could see that.

Some nights he would lie awake on his own. Reality had become his sanctuary and he loathed the dark. He loved the way the moonlight spilt across her bare back. He liked to place his hand on the dip of her waist and feel her warmth. He would bury his face in the crook of her neck and smiled when she shifted. Her hand would meet his and she would murmur something incoherent. His lips coaxed her away from her dreams and persuaded her from respite. He never meant to, but she did nevertheless. She was a hopeless fool under his touch, and she revelled in it.

Their limbs were tangled, with panted breaths and sweat slicked skin. He was gentle and rough at the same time, but she craved more. She wanted all of him but he teased her with sweet agony and a wicked smile. Her fingers left his skin raw but he paid no heed. She wanted to scream his name to the stars but his lips had other ideas. She was beauty and passion, and she was his. He held her as she arched her back and committed to memory the way her body tensed around him.

His kisses were slow and carnal.

He was not the only one who stayed awake at night.

* * *

 


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